


We'll Always Meet Again

by AkaiTsume



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Reincarnation, Romance, Soulmates, but it's ok though, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaiTsume/pseuds/AkaiTsume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s happened a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways, in a thousand different lives. They’ll always find one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Always Meet Again

Arm stretched out behind him, Rick shot at the men in the winding alley as he raced after Daryl. Ahead of him, the archer cursed and skidded to a stop, feet slipping on the wet pavement. A wall of walkers blocked the entrance to the alley, already shuffling towards the noise. Thinking quickly, Daryl grabbed Rick’s shirt and used the other man’s momentum to swing them both into an open doorway. Rick instinctively moved clear of the door, allowing Daryl to kick it shut. Outside, men were shouting angrily, their voices drowning out the faint hissing of walkers. The two men dragged a heavy, metal table in front of the door.

Breathing heavily, Rick turned to survey the small room they’d ducked into. His heart sank. No windows, and no other doors. No way out. Daryl, clearly realizing the same thing, turned to Rick with a grim expression.

“What do you wanna do?”

Rick eyed the door. Outside, he could hear bodies hitting the ground in the short breaks between gunfire. During their mad run, Rick had counted at least twenty armed men out there, and at least as many walkers. With their luck, more reinforcements had been called.

None of this was supposed to happen. It had started as a simple supply run at an apartment complex they’d spotted a few days back on their way to their new home base. The complex was large, certainly big enough to house supplies, and the evacuation signs posted on the outside were dated to shortly after the breakout. No vehicles nearby, no signs of farming or sustained life. The evacuation should’ve taken care of most of the people, leaving very few behind to turn into walkers. It should’ve been ripe for the picking.

Rick should’ve realized that other people might come to the same conclusion. He should’ve remembered that not every group wanted to set down roots and start creating a sustainable way of life. He should’ve checked it out with more people first, and then decided whether it was worth entering.

But he didn’t. He just took Daryl with him, because there was no one on earth he’d rather have as backup. He told the others to hold down the fort. Told them they’d be back in a few hours, don’t wait up. And now they were pinned behind a flimsy door with God only knew how many armed psychopaths and walkers just beyond it. Rick took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to Daryl’s, saying nothing.

Daryl took in Rick’s expression, his eyebrows furrowing. He slowly lowered his crossbow. The archer’s eyes flickered back and forth between Rick and the door.

“…Bullshit,” he managed hoarsely. “I ain’t never seen you give up.”

Rick ran his thumb along the hammer of his gun. “I’ve only got one bullet left.” His lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “Somehow, I don’t think they’re interested in surrender.”

Daryl paced angrily away, then stormed back over to Rick’s side. “We could fuckin’ _try_. Make nice, get out when they let their guard down. It could work.”

Rick nodded slowly. “That what you want to do?”

“You don’t?” Daryl scowled at him. “You’ve got Carl, you’ve got Judith. Everybody waitin’ on you. You don’t wanna get back?”

“‘Course I do,” Rick replied in a low voice. “You know that.” Taking a slow breath, Rick slid his gun into its holster. “When they get in here, we’ll try and surrender. If they take it, we’ll play along. I’ll tell them I’m the boss, get them focused on me. You get an opportunity to run, you take it, alright? Get the others and come back for me.”

Daryl’s scowl deepened, and he flung a frustrated arm towards Rick. “They’ll fuckin’ kill you before I can get back.”

“They might.” Rick turned to look at the door again. “Better that one of us gets out than neither of us.”

“And why shouldn’t that be _you?_ ” Daryl growled, drawing Rick’s attention back to him. He gestured angrily at himself. “Ain’t no one fuckin’ waitin’ for me. If one of us needs to get back, it’s _you_. I ain’t leavin’ you here to die.”

Rick shook his head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He lowered his eyes, thinking of Carl and Judith. Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, and Tyreese were all there, and any of them would be both capable and willing to take care of Rick’s kids. If he could add Daryl to the mix, he knew that nothing would happen to them so long as Daryl drew breath. And Carl…Carl was a man now, more than capable of handling himself. They’d be alright. He nodded to himself. If he could save everyone but himself, that was a risk he was willing to take.

Rick lifted his eyes to Daryl’s once more, a strange, warm glow filling his chest. He needed his kids to be taken care of, but…he also needed Daryl to be safe. He _had_ to keep Daryl alive. Whatever it took, he’d do it.

Daryl closed his eyes, stalked over to the far wall, and slammed his fist against it. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his hand.

“Fuck you,” he ground out. “I’m the fucking expendable one, not you.”

“You are _not_ expendable,” Rick returned instantly, fists clenching. “Not at _all_.”

“ _Why?_ ” Desperation tinged Daryl’s voice. The archer spun around. “Why would you fuckin’ try to sacrifice yourself for me? I _know_ that’s what you’re goddamn thinkin’. _Why??_ ”

Rick’s mouth opened, and without thinking, he replied, “Because I have to.” He blinked, then continued. “You have to live, Daryl.”

Daryl’s cheeks flushed with anger. “What makes you think I can—” He broke off abruptly, turning away. Despite himself, Rick smiled gently. Stepping forward, Rick gently took hold of Daryl’s shoulders, turned the archer to face him, and gingerly laid his forehead against the other man’s. He cupped Daryl’s head in his hands. After a moment, Daryl sagged against him, hands reaching out to rest on Rick’s hips. They stood like that for a long time, breathing each other’s air.

The noise outside came to an abrupt stop. Both men tensed, but they didn’t step away from each other. Voices echoed throughout the alleyway, growing louder as they approached the room that Rick and Daryl were trapped in. There was a brief moment of silence.

The door shook as someone outside rammed his shoulder into it. More voices rose up, several angry. The door shook again, and the table shifted. Rick gave a soft huff of laughter.

“Why do I feel like we’ve done this before?” he mused quietly. Daryl looked at him, eyes full of disbelief. Rick shook his head. “Never mind.”

As the door slammed open, Rick gave Daryl a sudden and vicious shove, tossing the unprepared man back into the corner. A shot rang out.

 

* * *

 

Amanda stood in the rain, glaring at the new gravestone through the sheen of angry tears. She tossed the flowers in her hand forcefully at her father’s grave.

“You son of a bitch,” she choked out. “It was supposed to be me.”

Sinking to her knees, she ran her fingers over the carved epitaph. The last words her father had said to her as he died, a smile on the fucking lunatic’s face. Her index finger dug into the last word.

She was the one who’d fucked up, getting mixed up in a drug lord’s operation. They came for her, looking to make her pay. And her fucking father wouldn’t let them do it, offering his life for hers. Those bastards took the deal. Now her father was gone.

Gritting her teeth, she raised her head. She stared blindly over the gravestone into the distance, eyes bloodshot.

They would all pay for this.

***

“The heck do you think you’re doing to my brother?” Mark shouted, racing up behind Andrew. His brother glared at him, wiping a trail of blood from his chin. His knee pants were torn and bloody from being knocked down by the large group of bullies circled around him. The bullies parted to let Mark through, sneering at him all the while.

“We’re teaching him how not to be a fairy,” the leader stated smugly. Mark looked at his brother’s furious face, then looked around the group. Pretty much every one of them had a bruise forming on his face or a tear in his clothing. Andrew had fought back.

Mark balled his fists and moved until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother. He grinned.

“You idiots don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Mark said calmly. Beside him, Andrew smiled.

The bullies began to look nervous. The leader stared at them incredulously.

“Are you mad?” the older boy bleated. “We’ll beat the stuffing out of you!”

Andrew snorted. “Come on and _try_.”

Before any of the bullies could react, Mark threw himself at the nearest one, fist connecting with the boy’s eye. The bully went down like his strings had been cut. Behind him, Andrew rushed another boy and tackled him. After Andrew slammed the boy’s head into the ground, he leapt to his feet and grinned at his brother.

“We’re going to be in trouble tonight,” he crowed. Mark grinned.

“Yep!”

As one, they dove back into the fray.

***

Stephen fingered his satchel, staring incredulously at the woman in front of him. She calmly checked over her firearm, brushed a loose strand of red hair behind her ear, and looked up at him, left eyebrow cocked upwards.

“ _You_ are my escort?” Stephen grumbled, eyebrows furrowed. “When I requested a security detail, this was not what I had in mind.”

The woman smiled. “My employer trusts me,” she replied in a thick, Irish brogue. “You need to find your special plants, and I need a pay cheque.”

Stephen frowned and tightened his grip on his satchel. “I admit, I’m uncomfortable with taking a woman into a dangerous situation.”

She laughed. “If you keep talking, this will _become_ a dangerous situation. Unless you think you can’t find your special whatever-it-is.”

Glowering, Stephen stepped around her. “I always find what I’m looking for.”

“Excellent.” The woman followed him out into the misty morning light, closing the door behind her.

***

Sir Lewis was seated in a lopsided, poorly built chair, his arms tied behind his back. He tipped his head back, staring at the narrow holes in the shabbily thatched roof above. Idly, he wondered if screaming would do anything other than get him killed.

A scratch at the door brought his head back down, and his arms tensed. After a moment, another man slipped into his field of vision, and Sir Lewis grinned. Peter eyed the bloodstains on Sir Lewis’ shirt and trousers. He grimaced and made his way to the knight’s side, sliding a long, serrated knife out of his belt.

“I cannot believe you got _kidnapped_ ,” Peter grouched as he cut into the rope binding Sir Lewis’ arms together. “It took me forever to find you.”

“But I knew you _would_ find me, eventually,” Sir Lewis replied cheerfully. “You always do.”

“Perhaps you should _stop getting kidnapped_.” The rope broke after a particularly vicious jerk of his knife. Sir Lewis rubbed his wrists, shrugging off the loose bindings. After a long look at his companion, he reached out, grasped Peter’s rough-woven shirt, and pulled him closer.

“That which I do, I do for the kingdom.” He tugged on Peter’s shirt until the other man leaned down, bringing their faces close together. “And for you.”

Peter’s eyes dropped briefly to Sir Lewis’ lips, and he sighed. “You’re a fool.”

Sir Lewis gave him a quick smile, then leaned forward to brush their lips together.  He pulled back, his gaze soft and warm. “Then I am proud to be a fool.”

Peter ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. Clearing his throat, Peter looked at the door. “We should get you out of here while we have the chance.”

Sir Lewis rose to his feet and gestured towards the entrance of the hut. “As long as you are with me.”

Peter gave him a dry look. “Always.”

***

The dog looked down at the cornered fox, his tail wagging slowly. The dog didn’t understand why, but the fox’s scent was familiar. Soothing. He lowered his nose to the ground, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. The fox kept his ears flat against his head, eyes narrowed. When the dog continued to hold still, the fox slowly relaxed. He gingerly stepped closer to the dog, ready to bolt at the slightest flinch from the bigger animal. He sniffed delicately. Finding nothing offensive in the dog’s scent, the fox warily stepped around him and began walking down a nearby game trail. When the dog simply lifted his head to watch him, the fox came to a stop and looked over his shoulder. The dog’s tail and ears perked up, and he took a tentative step forward. The fox waited patiently. Wagging once more, the dog followed the fox down the game trail.

The fox proved to be great at flushing out enough food for the both of them, and whenever they encountered other dogs or even larger animals, the dog stood his ground, always positioning himself between the threat and his friend. The fox would usually end up getting them both out of the jam they were in, but they worked well together, and they were happy.

***

In the ether, a place and time both before and after physical bodies were available, two spirits, a Protector and a Hunter, recognized each other, as spirits sometimes did. They couldn’t move towards one another, but the ether warped and shifted around them until they were side by side. As one, the two spirits reached out with their essences. When they touched, a _crack_ reverberated throughout the ether.

They were connected.

* * *

 

Daryl lurched forward, catching Rick as he fell. The shouting voices of the men outside faded away. Daryl dropped to his knees, Rick cradled in his arms. His throat closed.

“ _Rick_ ,” he forced out, voice filled with anguish. He raised a shaking hand to the other man’s face, then pressed it hard over the gushing wound in Rick’s chest. Blood welled up around his fingers. “Rick, _no!_ ”

Rick convulsed, and he coughed up a wad of blood into the archer’s face. He looked at Daryl, his eyes dazed.

“They get you?” Rick mumbled. Daryl tightened his grip around the other man, shaking his head.

“No, you dumb son of a bitch, they shot _you!_ ” Daryl shouted. His vision grew hazy with tears. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

Rick smiled at him, his lips stained red. “Had to pr’tect you. ‘S what ‘m here for.”

“ _Bullshit!_ ” Daryl spat harshly. His tears broke free, streaming down his cheeks. “That ain’t how this shit works!”

Rick’s eyes had gone glassy, and he seemed to be looking at a point just beyond Daryl instead of at him. His smile softened, and he weakly raised a hand to Daryl’s face. His thumb gently rubbed the archer’s cheek.

“‘S how it’s always worked,” Rick replied quietly. He coughed again, his entire body shaking with the force of it. “Always. Y’ve never been grateful, either. Always bitched at me for it.”

Confused, Daryl opened his mouth to protest, but another shot rang out. He felt the bullet tear through his chest, jerking him forward. He stared at Rick, his face now inches away. Despite the pain clouding his mind, he felt words bubbling up out of his chest, unbidden.

“You’re always a _cop_ ,” he said nonsensically. “Or something like it. Why can’t you fuckin’ be original for once?”

Rick chuckled weakly. “Didn’ pick me for my creativity.” His eyelids lowered, and the blood pulsing around Daryl’s fingers began to slow. The archer blinked rapidly, trying his damnedest to see Rick through his tears.

“Rick, don’t…” he protested weakly. Rick’s fingers brushed his cheek again.

“We’ll meet again, you and I,” Rick managed. His fingers slipped away.

Closing his eyes, Daryl buried his face in Rick’s chest. Pain tore through him a second time, and for an instant, he thought of a gravestone for a person he’d never met. Just before the world went black, he finished his friend’s quote.

“We’ll always meet again.”

**Author's Note:**

> The people closest to us will always turn up again in another life. They could be your sibling in one life, your lover in another, and your best friend in the next. One way or another, you’ll find each other again.
> 
> Come join me on [tumblr](http://akaitsume.tumblr.com).
> 
> Update: [FANART](http://beitae.tumblr.com/post/95974573570/happy-birthday-dana-i-wanted-to-do-something)!!! I LOVE YOU, MASA!!!


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